


Love the Aftertaste

by tiggeryumyum



Series: HQ ABO [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha Kuroo Tetsurou, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta Kozume Kenma, Beta Sugawara Koushi, M/M, Omega Akaashi Keiji, Omega Kageyama Tobio, Omega Shibayama Yuuki, Omega Tsukishima Kei, Omega Yaku Morisuke, One-sided haiba lev/Yaku Morisuke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 16:44:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12775176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiggeryumyum/pseuds/tiggeryumyum
Summary: It's third year, their last trip to training camp, and time to see just how lasting the bonds Nekoma's team has formed will actually be.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I HAVE NOTHING against Lev/Yaku, and writing this actually made me want to write a proper lev/yaku fic lol, but this is VERY, VERY one-sided Lev/Yaku!!! 
> 
> Normally I'd use an OC for this sort of role but Lev was just a perfect fit for want I wanted to do. :X But yeah if you're a diehard Lev/Yaku shipper you might want to skip this one.

This year, Kuroo will be Nekoma's alpha. Officially. Instead of unofficially, like last year.

Yaku is glad, because Captain Hojo had been as gracious as he could about Kuroo's growing influence on the team, and Kuroo had been as respectful as he could about minding his senpai, but it wasn't in either of their natures to back down. The underlying conflict about Kenma had only made it worse, and the rancid stink of two constantly posturing alphas grew so potent they were forced to air out the gym each night. 

Yaku had been concerned about explosive Yamamoto, but he's still enthusiastically deferring to Kuroo, and Kai is happily settling into his vice captain position. Kuroo as captain and alpha isn't nearly as smug as Yaku had feared, either. Kuroo himself has – not _mellowed_. Not really relaxed, either. Became more aware of how he uses his energy? First and second year he rarely ate lunch with Yaku and Kai, because Yaku and Kai always ate in the classroom, and Kuroo would spend his lunch hour drifting around the school, going from one group of friends to another.

This year, his friends are coming to him.

"Kuroo-san!" A beta on the tennis team says, entering the classroom. "Look what my sister sent from Taiwan!"

"It better not be more of that shitty pineapple cake," Kuroo says, without looking up from a video on another classmate's phone, a second year who is apparently attempting some experiment with hydrophobic coatings, and found something similar online she wants Kuroo's advice on.

"What do you think?" she asks.

"Looks like a mess," Kuroo laughs, around a bite of apparently shitty pineapple cake. "What do you think, Yakkun?"

"I think I'm catching up on my notes," he says, and is. Aimlessly irritated.

Yaku never thought Kuroo was _unpopular_ , exactly. He never thought it about it either way. But Kuroo is smart and he's got a laid-back confidence that the rest of the team definitely responds to. Apparently this extends outside of volleyball, as well, and it's become obvious that Kuroo is. Wanted. By all sorts of people, for all sorts of reasons. Yaku has already grown so accustomed to this that he doesn't even look up at the stranger approaching toward the end of lunch after all the other visitors have left, assuming her to be one of Kuroo's many varied acquaintances. 

"Kuroo-san."

Kuroo blinks, apparently not recognizing her either. "Yeah?"

She's an alpha, a very small one, probably a first year. She stiffens up her shoulders, puffing out her chest.

"I'm – challenging you for Yuki-chan."

This gets Yaku to look up from his notes, and Kuroo laughs, brushing the crumbs from his hands and turning to give her his full attention, clearly delighted. Shibayama Yuki is one of the team's first years, and the only other omega on the team outside of Yaku.

"You don't say?" Kuroo smiles. "In what?"

"Ohajiki," she says, holding out the stones in her hand. Yaku appreciates the guts this takes. As a first year, the thought of entering a third year classroom would've been enough to make his palms sweat, and Kuroo is a giant in comparison, nearly taller than her even while sitting. He's the imposing captain of a successful team as well, and as far as this first year knows, Kuroo could easily mock her attempt at a challenge, send her away while the entire class laughs. But here she is, waiting for Kuroo's response.

"Alright," Kuroo says, and stands up to his full height, hands on his hips. "What's your name?"

"Sato," she says. 

"Sato. I warn you," Kuroo says, clearly relishing each word. "Yuki-chan is a very precious member of my team. I'm not going to make this easy!"

Sato nods solemnly. 

The challenge begins, which in this case means the two of them kneel on the tiled floor of the classroom in a frankly adorably childlike fashion, playing ohajiki. 

It's not long before the entire class has gathered around, cheering Sato on as Kuroo toys with her. This isn't really a game of strength or skill, but Kuroo is the calmer of the two, making smarter decisions, while Sato is nervous, tapping too hard or too soft, cursing under her breath each time, blushing. 

Lunch ends while the game is still going strong, and the teacher groans when they walk through the door see what's happening.

"Hurry it up, alright?" they say over their shoulder as they start preparing the whiteboard for the next lesson.

Some schools have completely banned this sort of courting behavior, but Nekoma is extremely traditional, even occasionally referring to clubs as packs, and captains as alphas in official descriptions. Anyone who wants to pursue a member of Kuroo's pack will have to gain Kuroo's permission, or usurp his position by force. Sato's expression is grim as she does just that, tapping her next stone, finally bringing the score to a tie. She presses her lips together in excitement, watching Kuroo's next move carefully.

Yaku is too familiar with Kuroo's movements to be fooled when he throws the game in his next move, flicking his stone way too hard, and giving Sato the win. 

The class cheers as she gathers up the pieces of her game, grinning and flushed.

Kuroo is enjoying this too much to give it up now though, looking annoyed as he turns away from Sato. "It looks like I have no choice," he says, dramatically. "I will stand aside in your pursuit of Yuki."

"Thank you, Kuroo-san," she says, bows deeply, and scurries out of the classroom.

Shibayama is the sort of person who can get excited over finding a feather or 5-piece yen on the ground, so Yaku is prepared to hear a breathless, giddy report about Sato's confession any day now, but a week passes and Shibayama never mentions it. 

He blinks blankly when Yaku finally asks.

"Sato?" Shibayama repeats, thinking. "There's a Sato in class 2, but we've never really talked... "

Kuroo laughs, hard, while Yaku stares in confusion. 

"She must have lost her nerve," Kai says, sympathetically. 

"She went to all that trouble of tracking Kuroo down, challenging him in front of everyone," Yaku says. "But couldn't ask Shibayama a simple question??" 

"Simple question!?" Yamamoto shouts from the back of the clubhouse, hurrying to pull his shirt down over his head. "Fighting an alpha is nothing compared to the challenge of confessing to an omega! Fighting fifty alphas would still be easier than confessing to an omega!"

"Hn," Kuroo says, surprising Yaku with his agreement. "With an alpha you know there's a possibility you can win. Best case with an omega is they'll show you mercy. You lose before you start, really."

Yaku rolls his eyes, finding this needlessly dramatic. 

It's to be expected when it comes to Yamamoto, but from Kuroo, of all people – it's annoying.

~

"I'm interested in you."

Kuroo expression stays mild, glancing over his shoulder to see who Yaku is talking to. He does a double take when he realizes they're alone, and Yaku is speaking to him.

"Do you want to go out?" Yaku asks.

"Wha – " Kuroo says. "What? I thought you hated me?"

"I thought so too," Yaku says. He sits down beside Kuroo. It's the end of their first year, and they just finished saying their farewells to their senior classmates. The passionate, emotionally charged atmosphere had made this seem like the right time to say something. "But I think it was actually a crush."

"I – " Kuroo looks bewildered. 

Yaku can already tell the answer is no. It's sour and unhappy, and the easiest thing is to treat this like one of their typical competitive disagreements. "You _what_?" Yaku prods impatiently. 

"I – I mean, this is the alpha's job, idiot!" 

"Okay. Will you ask me if I want to go out?"

"Yaku!" Kuroo says, standing up, annoyed and flustered. "I – it's too late now anyway! It's the last day of the year, talk about shitty timing! I'll give you my answer next year."

He's hoping Yaku forgets. Yaku can tell.

Yaku watches him go. They don't talk all summer, and neither of them bring it up again.

~

As far as Yaku knows, Sato never confesses.

Months pass, inter-high comes and goes, and Nekoma licks their wounds at summer training camp.

Yaku always looks forward to this time of year, because Shinzen hosts, and Shinzen is the only school he's ever seen with a separate facility for omegas. He tells Shibayama about it as they climb off the bus, and the first year gets so excited Yaku wishes he'd mentioned it earlier. 

"We had a locker room like that in my junior high!!" Shibayama says, eyes shining, hands in fists. 

"Weren't _all_ the locker rooms at your junior high omega-only?" Kuroo laughs while unloading the bags from the bus. "You went to an omega-only school."

"Ha," Shibayama laughs, awkwardly, still a little shy around their captain. "Yeah. But they were nice!"

"Sure, sure," Kuroo says, already distracted, leaning further in to reach one of the bags in the back.

Camp officially begins tomorrow, but traditionally all four schools meet up the night before, have dinner, go to bed early, then wake up at the most gruesome hour possible to begin practice. It leaves them a few hours to settle in however they like when they first arrive, which Yaku has always spent in the omega locker room.

He looks over his shoulder at Kenma, who is sitting on the curb, still playing his DS, and from the rate his fingers are moving, at a particularly difficult spot. 

"Kenma?"

"In a minute," Kenma murmurs without looking up.

"Kenma's coming?" Shibayama asks, as they walk up the steps to the school.

"Betas can use the omega facilities if they want," Yaku says.

"Inuoka, too??"

"If he wants," Yaku says, but the idea is a little laughable. Inuoka, like Kenma, is a beta, but he obviously, obviously skews alpha and Yaku will be surprised if he makes it to the end of the year without flipping over properly. The omega facilities are open to him until that happens, but like the rest of the betas at camp, he will likely find the idea embarrassing, preferring to stick to the far more crowded, and surely filthy, alpha showers. 

They pass some Fukurodani alphas in the halls, playing an unruly game of soccer with a volleyball. The ball isn't heavy enough to be used properly, they're unable to control it, and Yaku is unsurprised when a random kick sends it careening their direction. 

"Look out!!"

Yaku's eyes lock on the speed and trajectory, licking his lip as he takes a few steps back, lining up with it, dropping into position, arms outstretched – _bam_. Perfect. He sways, absorbing the full impact of the ball, sending it arching back, into Tatsuki's waiting hands.

"What the hell!!" Bokuto shouts from the other end of the hall, waving his fist in the air. "That receive pisses me off, Yakkun!!!" 

Yaku just grins and waves as he pulls open the door to the locker room. 

From the steam that's released, Yaku knows someone has already ran a bath, and the scent of smoky jasmine tells him it's Akaashi.

"It's like a hot springs!" Shibayama gasps as he steps inside, looking around. "This is way better than my old school!!"

Yaku grins at his excitement – apparently not many omegas at Shinzen are in sports clubs, because the room is still the uniquely pristine condition it was the first time Yaku saw it, two years ago. The massive tubs and walls all have shiny, clean-like-new tiles, baskets of bath oils, salts and tablets.

"What's this??" Shibayama asks, pointing to a bottle on the sink counter that's so ridiculously ornate it looks like a genie might pop out, filled with a dark liquid. 

"Uh… " Yaku says, clueless.

"It's incense," Akaashi says, and Yaku looks over to see him soaking in the tub already, resting his chin on his arm. "You put the sticks in. They release the scent into the air."

"Aaah," Shibayama says, and carefully unscrews the top to do just that. "Thank you, Akaashi-san!"

"Mmhm," Akaashi says. "How was the trip?"

"Great!" Shibayama says, taking the courteous greeting at face value and describing various things they saw along the way. Akaashi patiently hums along. 

It is honestly hard to believe at times that Akaashi is only a second year. He'd been the same when Yaku met him last year: reserved, but not out of the typical underclassman shyness. Just calm and levelheaded, and, annoyingly, exactly the sort of setter Fukurodani needed to pull a consistent performance out of Bokuto. 

Yaku glances at the mate mark on Akaashi's neck, another of the more unbelievable things about him. 

Akaashi had only known Bokuto a year when they bonded. Barely sixteen, and it's the youngest bonding Yaku's ever seen firsthand. The mark itself is huge, too, nearly the entire side of his long neck, bold and dark. According to some, a large mark like that means the alpha that left it is especially passionate and virile, a _wild thing_ , and it's such a juxtaposition on composed, reserved Akaashi's neck.

"Did you win?" Shibayama asks, and Yaku looks over to see Kenma has crept silently into the room. From the frown on his face Yaku knows the answer is no, he did not, but he only shrugs as he sets his bags on the bench and starts getting undressed.

Yaku finishes folding his clothes, about to step into the bath himself when he sees Shibayama has grabbed one of the stools.

"Ah," Yaku says, stepping back down. It's not the sort of thing he usually does, he has no younger siblings, and he's never had an omega kohai before this year. But Shibayama is the kind of omega who likes this sort of thing, so. Yaku takes a seat to wash Shibayama's hair. But maybe he _is_ that type of omega, because honestly if he believed for a second that Kenma would allow it, Yaku would offer to do the same for him, instead of just watching as Kenma sinks down to his chin, just enough to soak the tips of his hair. Of course he hasn't bothered to put it up, and he'll probably climb out again in an hour or two, hair half wet, halfheartedly combing his fingers through the limp, tangled mess, and that will be that. 

"There aren't any omegas in Shinzen or Ubugawa?" Shibayama asks after a while of staring at a door that hasn't opened again. 

"Not this year," Yaku says, finishing the rinse on Shibayama's hair, then finally sinking in the bath. "There's a pair of betas on Ubugawa, but they're probably with the alphas. So just us." 

"Until Karasuno shows up," Shibayama says. 

"How many omegas do they have?" Akaashi asks. "Three?"

"Five," Yaku says. 

"Four," Kenma says.

"Are you sure?" Yaku asks.

"The reserve setter is a beta," Kenma says. "He was just wearing the omega uniform."

"Eh? Seriously??" 

Kenma makes his _I've said too much already~_ grunt, diverting his gaze. 

Yaku frowns, remembering the pleasant, even tempered third year, Sugawara, the member of Karasuno he probably got on with the best. 

There's no real beta uniform in volleyball, just alpha and omega ones, so it's up to each beta to decide which they'd like to wear. There's not much a difference between the two, the omega cut is a bit tighter, and sleeveless, but they're otherwise identical. It's purely a status thing, and just like Kenma is the only beta in the omega washroom, the default choice is universally alpha.

"Well, there's six, if you count their managers," Shibayama says. 

"Two managers?" Akaashi asks, dipping a little further down into the water, brows creasing. "How big is their team?"

"Twelve or so. Not huge," Yaku says. He knows what Akaashi is thinking – four omegas isn't really much of anything if the team is big enough. "But three of the omegas are starters." 

"Really?" 

"One's a wing spiker, one's a middle blocker and there's this super genius setter," Shibayama says quickly, and Akaashi stares, clearly struggling to wrap his mind around it. "Coach called him an _oni_."

Akaashi raises his eyebrows toward Kenma who gives a short, uncomfortable shrug to confirm.

"Huh," Akaashi says. 

"Most of the time when you see omegas playing, they're liberos," Shibayama says, drawing circles in the water idly, inching toward a question he apparently doesn't know how to ask outright.

To be fair, Yaku doesn't really know how to answer it. 

Physically there's no real trend when it comes to alpha and omega builds, no matter what some like to argue. There are tiny alphas just as often as oversized omegas. Most land somewhere in the middle. Yaku supposes what it comes down to is the fact that the libero position is seen as less glamorous to alphas. There's less competition for the spot, and so that's naturally where room for omegas will be made.

He doesn't want to say anything like that, though, because he really is proud of being a libero, he doesn't think there's anything second rate about it whatsoever. 

He changes the subject, pushing the basket of oils and tablets toward Shibayama.

"You pick," he says. 

Shibayama deliberates very seriously, then reaches in and selects a tablet in green and white wrapping. 

"How about – "

" _No!_ " All three of them, even Kenma, say at once, and Shibayama jumps, startled, dropping the half opened cleanser back into the basket. 

"Pick something that suppresses scents," Yaku says.

"Nothing minty," Akaashi says.

Yaku pulls Shibayama's first choice out of the basket and sets it aside, where it won't be grabbed accidentally. Why would a high school even have a cleanser in the first place? _Releasing and enhancing your own natural scent_ , as the package promises, is suggestive to say the least. 

The next one Shibayama picks _Milky White Rose_. They stare.

"Not minty!" Shibayama says, with a hopeful grin.

"No, it is not," Akaashi allows, and doesn't protest beyond that as Shibayama opens the wrapper, dumping it in. It's probably not the best way to start the camp, for all the omegas to show up to dinner smelling like _milky white roses_ , but it's better than a cleanser, and it is a large tub. It will dilute in the water. Yaku hopes. 

They relax into the silence as the tablet fizzes across the surface of the water. Akaashi tips his head back, and Yaku gaze travels to Akaashi's mate mark again. 

He wants to ask about it, what it feels like, but he's sure Akaashi must be sick of that. It's so unusually large, and he's so young, he probably gets questioned regularly by nosy strangers, and he and Yaku aren't not quite close enough for questions from him to be anything different.

"Anyone at Nekoma retire after inter-high?" Akaashi suddenly asks, and Yaku starts slightly, feeling caught staring even though Akaashi hasn't even opened his eyes. 

"No. Fukurodani?" 

"Two third years," he says. "But they weren't regulars." 

"Almost all your regulars are seniors, right?" Yaku asks as he thinks about it.

Akaashi nods, grimacing a bit. "Next year is going to be difficult if we don't get some promising first years."

"Well. That's its own brand of difficulty."

 _"Mori-san!!!"_

Yaku freezes. The shout came from outside the door.

Kenma and Shibayama both awkwardly, and obviously, avert their gaze, while Akaashi looks confused. "Mori-san?"

" _Morisuke-san!!!!_ "

Yaku scowls, climbing out of the tub and pulling on a towel.

He opens the door to the locker room, and of course it's Lev standing there, grinning obliviously. 

"Didn't we talk about this?" Yaku demands. "About how to address your senpai??"

"That was on the court – " 

"No, it was all the time," Yaku says. "Yaku-san, _all the time._ "

"But Morisuke is a cute name!" Lev says, growing increasingly flustered. 

Yaku pauses, frowning. 

Usually, scolding Lev is like trying to punch a pillow. It doesn't matter how rough you are, it endures with infuriating durability, returning to it's original, puffed up, overconfident shape with just a few shakes. 

Now, Lev is backing away, eyes wide, and it's not until the blush reaches his face that Yaku realizes why. 

Yaku rolls his eyes. "We use the same locker room all the time."

"I – I know, but – " Lev looks to the ceiling. "Yaku-san – smells – "

"It's bath salts," Yaku grimaces, feeling the heat on his face. "What do you want, Lev?"

"Oh, yeah. The food got spoiled!" Lev says, reverting back to his confident self with typical ease, pulling out take out a menu from where he'd tucked it into the back of his shorts. "We're all ordering out for dinner. Coach's treat!"

Yaku takes it from Lev, and heads back into the bath. 

"Is everything alright?" Akaashi says, raising a very innocent eyebrow. "Mori-san?"

"We're ordering out for dinner," Yaku says, slapping the menu on the side of the tub. "Pick what you want."

"Who was that?" Akaashi asks.

"Lev," Shibayama says. "He's, uhm… "

"A first year Yaku's been having trouble with," Kenma says. 

" _He's_ the one having trouble," Yaku says. "I don't know what his problem is, but – "

"He has a crush on you."

Kenma says it in that same dull, quiet voice he says just about everything. Yaku stares at him, slowly narrowing his eyes as he considers their very precious setter. 

He wouldn't do it, except Kenma's hair is now wet up to his ears. It hangs on either side of his head, dripping wet, and it's just _slightly_ more annoying than the thing that came out of Kenma's mouth.

Kenma's ankle floats innocently near Yaku's knee. Yaku grabs it, and yanks. 

Kenma barely manages a yelp before he's submerged completely ( _"Yaku-san!"_ Shibayama gasps) then up immediately to his feet in a splash, blinking wide, shell shocked eyes. 

Yaku tosses the shampoo his way. 

"Wash your hair properly, Kenma."

~

Karasuno shows up, as promised. 

This brings the camp's total to twenty-seven alphas, seven betas, and seven omegas. Yaku is happy about this, but it doesn't compare to Shibayama's wide, beaming grin when Kuroo leads Karasuno through the doors, to the empty court where the team starts their warm ups. 

"Where's Shoyo?" Kenma asks when Kuroo rejoins them. 

"Failed an exam," Kuroo says. 

"Oh."

"Looks like your new boyfriend is a knucklehead."

Yaku looks up from his stretch. That is not something he would say to Kenma, and not something he would expect Kuroo to, either - at least. Not in front of everyone. The boy is private, and could very well be harboring some feelings for Hinata. Calling that out in front of the entire team is cruel, and of course Kenma flinches.

"Ehm," Kuroo says, the playfully sharp edge of his smile dimming, apparently realizing his misstep. He's a bit gentler as he continues, "He's taking the make up exam now, so he still might show up."

"Right…" Kenma murmurs. 

Yaku glares at Kuroo as Kenma shuffles away. Kuroo gives an awkward half shrug of apology, then is distracted by the Karasuno omegas passing by. Even Kai is tracking their movement, though he's more subtle about checking their scents than Yamamoto, who takes a cartoonishly loud, deep inhale.

"We should've invited Karasuno earlier," Yamamoto says, voice dropping so low it's almost comical.

"Yeah!" Shibayama agrees, obliviously. 

The energy of the gym has dropped to a distracted crawl – they were all told about Karasuno, but _Miyagi_ tends to bring to mind plain, backwater folk. Yaku knows when they first visited Nekoma, at least, he had been imagining basically that, but Karasuno's first year omegas are all very tall and lanky. They have the distinct look of omegas Yaku sees hanging around in the trendy fashion districts of Tokyo, wearing obscenely expensive clothes, stylized makeup and hopelessly bored pouts on their faces. 

" _What do I do?_ " he overhears Lev asking Kuroo at the back line of the court, quietly panicked.

"We've played omegas before," Kuroo says, with a hardy slap on his back. "Do what you did then."

"Not blockers! Not spikers!" Lev says. "It just feels – I don't know, it's – "

" _Lev_ ," Yaku says, stepping in front of Kuroo, grabbing Lev's shirt and dragging him down to look in the face. "The second you make me think you're going easy on Karasuno, I'll kick your ass so hard Inuoka will have your spot the rest of the year."

Lev's eyes go wide. "Right." 

Karasuno makes five teams rather than four, which changes the rotation and leaves one team sitting out after penalties. They have nothing to do but observe, and of course they're all watching the most interesting thing in the gym right now. 

Yaku feels each of those stares hotly, as though he was the one being scrutinized, and flinches internally with each mistake he sees the Karasuno omegas make. Even when the alpha captain is slow on a receive, he imagines the gym of alphas assuming the worst – _How can any alpha be expected to form a solid connection with such a weak team??_ It makes him tense and defensive.

Once it's Nekoma's turn to sit out, they all silently observe Nishinoya attempt one of the jump tosses they've been practicing. He fumbles, and it falls to the right side of the court – the setter barely saves it, putting up a sharp, high toss for their super sized omega ace, who slams it down. 

"Nice," Yamamoto whistles.

"Wouldn't mind hitting a few of those tosses," Kai says. 

If it was anyone else, Yaku would think the overly pleasant tone was an innuendo, and he even gives Kai a second, closer look to be sure. Either would make sense, frankly. Kageyama's tosses are so clean and precise they make even Yaku want to give spiking a go, and the first year himself is - captivating. His face, his energy, the way he moves. It's all very _regal_. He looks like something expensive. The crown of Karasuno. 

"Shame he's an omega," Teshiro says. "Think he'll go pro anyway?"

" _Yes_ ," Yaku says, quickly, before anyone else can say anything. "He has the most potential out of the first years here, anyway. Him and Lev."

Yaku hears the gasp behind him, and his blood goes cold. 

" _Potential_ ," Yaku repeats, loudly, before glaring over his shoulder at Lev, who is smiling like a goddamn fool. "That doesn't mean you'll realize it."

But nothing can help Lev's ego after that, it's ballooning out of control, and Yaku shakes his head as Lev walks onto the court for their next game, chest out and chin high.

"Just look at the power of senpai's kind word," Kuroo says, slapping Yaku on the back.

"Kind words are the _last_ thing that idiot needs," Yaku mutters, and Lev proves this – he's all over the court, the length of his ridiculous body an uncoordinated, tangled mess, and growing even worse when he realizes this, trying to correct it and flailing madly through the last 10 points, hand-delivering Karasuno their first set of the day.

"Ha _haaa!!_ " laughs Tanaka, pointing and gloating in Yamamoto's face, fire in his eyes while the rest of the team celebrates. 

It's their only win until lunch, when that tardy test flunker alpha Kenma's been texting finally arrives. 

Yaku watches Hinata and Kenma sit side by side on the steps of the cafeteria, relieved. After Kuroo's taunt, Yaku had worried Kenma might grow self conscious about this budding relationship, revert back to last year's habit of closing himself off completely from nearly everyone but Kuroo - but Hinata is leaning far into Kenma's personal space, apparently attempting to help Kenma through the level he lost earlier, pointing to his character on his DS screen and talking loudly, and Kenma is allowing all of it.

"Number ten actually made it, then?" Kai asks, setting his tray on the table.

"Looks like it," Yaku says.

"Hn," Kuroo sighs. "I was hoping to play a few more sets without the little monster."

He, Kuroo and Kai all stare over silently. The freak quick itself is something Nekoma can work around. What concerns Yaku is the kid himself. Karasuno ate 6 losses during their last practice, and that's a demoralizing thing for anyone – except Hinata, apparently. He only seemed motivated, and passed that dogged, blind determination to the rest of his team, and they're starting to see the results of that now. Karasuno is lagging behind the rest of the teams at camp, but only by a few steps, and they've got the momentum to start closing that gap if Nekoma doesn't pick up the pace. 

"Almost feels like we're the sharpening stone for the blade that's going to stab us," Kai says with a soft laugh.

"Probably not us," Kuroo says. "But our kohai for sure." 

"They can take it," Yaku says dismissively. It's hitting him, seriously, for the first time. This is their last chance. Their last camp, their last preliminaries, and then their last finals. "But just so you know, I'm not going to be satisfied if we only get to play one or two games at nationals."

"Well," Kuroo says, his lazy grin growing curved, obnoxiously suggestive. "We'll have to keep Yakkun satisfied, then."

~

It took Yaku nearly his entire first year of high school to figure out just what the hell was going on in his chest when it came to Kuroo. 

All he knew at the time was that whenever Kuroo spoke, it held his attention, and he would obsess over it, looking for all the ways it was _wrong_ so he could lord it over Kuroo's head – unless the reverse happened, which would leave Yaku obsessing about it even longer. 

It felt like an endless competition between them, and it wasn't until Yaku realized it was something he looked forward to, that made his heart beat faster, that left him smiling, and Kuroo smiling back – that he realized it was a crush.

It's only this year that he understands the context of Kuroo's horrified reaction to Yaku's confession, and how truly hopeless it was for Yaku to attempt. It's likely Kuroo had more than one confession that day, and of course it'd be a nightmare to get one more from your friend, teammate, someone you can't avoid. Even back then, he sort of knew. Kuroo is outgoing, and he carefully carves a spot at his side for Kenma, his dearest friend, every day, but Yaku can't see him making the same effort twice for someone else who does not really belong there. 

Yaku spent that summer refusing to think about Kuroo, meeting with old teammates from junior high instead of the open practices at Nekoma, avoiding the parks and restaurants he knew Kuroo enjoyed best. He would starve the feelings to death. 

And it worked. And if Yaku happened to feel occasional twitches in his chest, it's just the awful thing its the death throes – like when Yaku accidentally startled Kuroo in a dark club room, earning a loud, self-conscious, _dorky_ guffaw. When Bokuto came down with the summer flu and had to leave camp early, leaving Kuroo fretting behind him in anxious, childlike concern. When he saw Kuroo waiting, alone, in the hall between classes, letting his head tip back, sliding his eyes shut with an exhausted, honest sigh. When Kuroo looked over Yaku's calculus notes, spotted his errors and spent nearly an hour explaining it, patiently, giving different examples, until Yaku actually understood.

Of course, that last thing happened less than a month ago, so. 

Yaku... continues... to have an utterly hopeless crush on Kuroo.

~

After dinner, the omegas are back in the locker room. 

Cold is for injuries, and hot is for sore muscles, and because they have both after a particularly energetic day, they decide to set up two baths, for hot and cold plunges.

"What'd you think of Karasuno?" Shibayama asks Akaashi, who is gritting his teeth, tense all over as he sits down in the cold plunge. 

" _Shit_ ," he hisses. "Ah. Well. They certainly goh- got Bokuto-san fired up - "

Yaku gasps, the drop into the ice cold water stealing his breath, but doesn't give himself any time to adjust, he lets the conversation continue without him as he submerges completely. The cold crawls across his scalp in cruel, sharp bites, and Yaku spreads his toes, his fingers, feeling the icy chill on every warm, tender part of himself, welcoming the distraction, because - Kuroo was flirting with him?

He's been thinking about it since lunch, and keeps going back and forth, unable to fully decide _what_ exactly that was. Kuroo leans toward flirtatious more often than not, and Yaku knows it's usually thoughtless, but it's something he'd never done with Yaku. Maybe because of Yaku's confession in first year, or. Yaku's not sure what. Yaku has never seriously attempted to figure it out: he got his answer from Kuroo, and did his best to put it to rest. But Kuroo was - _definitely_ flirting with him. Right? Yes - because he remembers the break in Kai's always calm, placid expression, eyebrow raising slightly in surprise. That was not how Kuroo usually talks to Yaku. It was _flirting._

Settling on this fully brings a hopelessly excited pulse of happiness through him, one that he immediately attempts to tame down. Kuroo can be capricious. He might have just thought the phrasing was suggestive, and wanted to mess around, and Yaku should not take this seriously, at all, but he's still in a fantastically good mood when he finally comes up for air, shaking his head wildly and laughing when a few drops hit Shibayama and he yelps. The two setters are still talking about Kageyama, and Yaku can't tell if it's impressed or annoyed or a mix of the two.

"Accommodating all those different styles - " 

"His spikers can experiment with anything they want," Kenma mumbles, a sour sort of frown on his face.

"Once they figure out what works best," Akaashi pants. "They'll be. ah. Troublesome. Should it really be this cold??"

"Just four- three more minutes," Yaku huffs, struggling to bear it.

They only make it two before escaping over the edge and into the hot bath. After the extreme cold, the heat is nearly painful, but in a bracing, strangely pleasant way. Shibayama whines when Yaku slaps his ice cold hands on his round cheeks, saying it looked terrible in there, and refusing to give it a try. 

"Come on," Yaku prods.

"I didn't even injure myself today, Yaku-san – "

"What are you doing, lurking out here??" 

They all look up – the voice is familiar, and muffled through the door. When it opens, Sugawara is there, pushing Kageyama in front of him.

"Hello!" Sugawara says, and Kageyama gives a short, stiff bow. 

"Hello," Akaashi, Shibayama, and Yaku all greet them in return, while Kenma flinches, visibly sinking into himself. 

"I'll be right back, I'm just going to see if the others want to join us," Sugawara says.

"Oh good!" Shibayama says, but Yakucan tell, from the the look on Kenma's face, if the rest of Karasuno's omegas do join them, this will probably be the last time he'll use this locker room as an escape. 

"Go ahead and climb in, Kageyama," Sugawara says, with another little push.

Kageyama grunts, then visibly flinches when Sugawara leaves, abandoning him. 

There's a beat of silence where he stares at the group, pouting severely. 

It's only now, actually, that Yaku sees the first year in him properly. On the court he's an intimidating, imposing figure who knows exactly what he's doing at all times, but here, he's clearly a perfectly average kohai, stiff and uncertain. 

Yaku decides the kindest thing is to stop making a fuss, so he clears his throat loudly, turning to discuss a game he knows Akaashi has been playing, allowing Kageyama his privacy as he undresses.

Shibayama starts beside him a few minutes later. "Wait – "

Yaku turns his head to see Kageyama stepping into the cold plunge. Kageyama freezes, and Yaku expects an angry or startled shout or something – but after a beat Kageyama just braces himself and sits down.

They stare. He stares back.

"H-hey," Yaku says, standing up. "We were using that for injuries, you should – "

"It's fine!" 

"… Are you sure?" Shibayama asks, and Kageyama nods. 

It's clearly not fine, Kageyama is shivering like mad, but unable correct his mistake out of pride or awkwardness or embarrassment, glancing up at Kenma and Akaashi with a nervously constipated expression.

 _He really is on whole other level…_ Yaku sighs, climbing back into the cold, cursing under his breath as he wades to the wall, turning on the system bath heater. 

If it was one of his own kohai, he would proceed to tease Kageyama mercilessly for the rest of the bath, and camp itself, and maybe every time he saw him after that for the rest of his life. He doesn't know Kageyama well enough, though, so he just sits down across from him, shivering miserably and waiting for the warm water to circulate into the tub.

It's lukewarm by the time the rest of Karasuno arrives, but the only one to complain about it is Tsukishima, who seems like he's a difficult person to please in general.

Somehow Yaku ends up sharing a bath with Kageyama, Yamaguchi and Tsukishima, while Asahi and Sugawara climb into the bath with the others. 

Yaku had been looking forward to catching up with Sugawara, but thankfully Sugawara sits so they share the lip of the connecting tubs, nearly back to back, and all he has to do is turn his head a bit for eye contact.

"I've never seen an omega locker room before," Asahi says, his expression nearly identical to Shibayama's a day ago.

"Karasuno is super traditional school, too, right?" Yamaguchi asks. "Shouldn't we have something like this?"

"It's probably not cheap," Tsukishima says. 

"And accommodating omegas in athletics is more modern than not," Akaashi says. 

"So, rich _and_ progressive," Sugawara says. "Two things Karasuno is not. Maybe it's not too late to transfer over to Shinzen – I'm teasing." 

Yaku is confused, until he sees Kageyama relaxing back into the bath, having obviously believed his joke.

The locker room is obviously a louder place with Karasuno there, more than doubling amount of people from yesterday. It's a nice atmosphere, though, and Yaku keeps glancing over to check Kenma's expression, but he can be hard to read at times. He's not outwardly distressed, at least. Just quiet. The only one quieter is Kageyama, who is still about as tense as he had been when he first sat down in ice cold water. 

Apparently, Yaku is not the only one who noticed.

It's not until after Akaashi calls it, gets dressed and leaves, that Tsukishima decides to ask about it, which, in the aftermath, Yaku realizes was actually a pretty kind move.

"Didn't you want to ask the Fukurodani setter some questions?" 

Kageyama starts in surprise, then sinks into the water up to his chin. "I changed my mind," he mutters.

"Bwah!" Tsukishima laughs out loud. "Don't tell me the king was feeling _shy_?"

"What?! _No!_ "

 _King?_ Yaku starts to ask, but Sugawara shakes his head sharply, holding up his hand. 

"Guys, come on," Asahi says, weakly.

"The _bashful_ king – "

"Shut up!" Kageyama shouts, and it echoes in the tiled room.

"Seriously, guys – " Sugawara says. 

"If you write down your questions in a note, maybe you can sneak it into his gym bag like a love letter – "

" _Shut up!!!_ " Kageyama surges up violently, but must step wrong, because he loses his balance, slipping backward into the water, causing a mighty _splash_ over the edges, directly over Yaku's face, and up his nose. He leans forward, hacking and shaking his head, until Shibayama hands him a towel to blow his nose. 

"Are you alright?" Sugawara laughs, as Kageyama stands upright.

"Yes," Kageyama says, still annoyed. "Sorry, Yaku-san."

"Akaashi-san is really nice," Shibayama calls, helpfully. "You can ask him questions, he won't mind!"

Kageyama mumbles something, face bright, furious red. 

Yaku's nose still stings, and he keeps wiggling it, blowing it over and over to get it back to normal while Tsukishima and Kageyama continue snipping at one another. 

Yaku suddenly pauses in blowing his nose again, hearing something just – faintly. Something fizzing. 

"What is that?"

"What's what?" Yamaguchi asks.

"That noise," Yaku asks, and everyone goes silent, listening. It sounds like… a bath tablet. 

He sees the green and white wrapper first, bobbing in the water. " _Shit_."

"What is it?" Yamaguchi asks, worried, sitting upright, lifting his arms and looking around.

"Shit, shit, shit," Yaku chants, finally finding the bubbling tablet in the corner, behind Kageyama. There's barely any of it left, but Yaku grabs it anyway, a little too roughly – it crumbles to pieces in his fist, then dissolves completely in the water. "Get out, get out of the tub," he shoos the first years, and they follow the order immediately, confused but cooperative, which Yaku was not expecting after dealing with Lev, who needs an explanation for every order he's given.

"What's wrong?!" Shibayama asks. 

"That was the cleansing tablet," Yaku says. "When Kageyama fell it must have tipped into the tub."

Yamaguchi and Tsukishima go wide eyed, but Kageyama just blinks.

"A cleansing tablet washes away suppressants, and makes your own scent stronger," Sugawara explains.

"Oh," Kageyama says, and looks back to the bath, still unsure about why this would be a big deal. 

Sugawara opens his mouth, then seems to decide against it. They're at a camp with generally trustworthy alphas, after all. Maybe it _won't_ be a big deal.

"Get in here and we'll try to wash it off," Sugawara says, instead. 

They all squeeze into one tub, but Yaku knows it's futile. He's never used one before, and whatever is in the cleansing tablets, it's already making his skin tingle. His glands are warming in way that usually means his heat is on its way, but without any of the usual drifty-headedness or cramps. 

Something has been put into motion, he can feel it in his body, and a bath will not be enough to keep it from running its course. 

~

Yaku wakes up the next morning and sees Kuroo sitting on top of his blankets, legs crossed as he scrolls lazily on his phone.

"You smell obscene," he says.

"What?" Yaku asks, blinking heavily, still not fully awake.

"It woke me up," Kuroo says. He actually sounds a little angry about it. "Your smell."

It's only now Yaku remembers last night. "Oh," he says. Kuroo's opinion on his scent shouldn't actually matter, but after getting his hopes up last night - stupidly - Yaku had thought. Maybe... but obviously not. "You're welcome."

Kuroo smirks, but it's short and wan, and he quickly grows serious again. "If it's still this strong tonight, we should rethink the sleeping arrangements."

"Blegh," Yaku sticks out his tongue, forcing himself up onto his knees, trying to wake up. Kuroo is overreacting, is his first thought, but then he sees Lev.

Awake. 

Staring. 

"You scent, Mori – "

"Yaku-san."

Yaku had opened his mouth to say it, blinking in surprise when it comes out of Kuroo's mouth first. 

"Address your senpai respectfully, Lev," Kuroo says, still in that irritated tone. "And if you're awake enough to be scenting omegas, you're awake enough to be rolling up your mats."

Lev gives a grumpy, sour little agreement, sitting up to roll up his mat, while Yaku watches Kuroo leave the room, feeling more turned around than ever.

Alphas have dull noses, so Yaku writes off the morning as their reaction to smelling an omega clearly for the first time, until a still sleepy Sugawara comes up behind him in line for breakfast, buries his head in Yaku's hair, inhaling deeply. 

"Seriously?" Yaku mutters.

"Mmm. You smell like – clove," he says. "Vanilla clove and honey. It's very pleasant."

"How are your omegas doing?"

"Smelling great," Sugawara laughs, stepping back to pick up his own tray. "Tsukishima's smell is usually so mild it's nice to actually get a scent of him for once." And it is strong this morning, now that Yaku notices, actually strong enough to get a hint of it from all the way across the room - something pleasantly tart and sharp, which suits the first year's severe expression.

Yaku is greedy with breakfast as he continues down the line, stacking his tray in piles. He's feeling both aggressive and energetic this morning, his body remembering the focused, driven rhythm of these camps, and he wants to make the most of the day.

"Planning on going hard?" Sugawara asks, seeming amused as he watches Yaku grab two rice bowls.

Yaku gives an affirmative grunt - he looks down at Sugawara's tray, and sees a slightly less than regular amount. He frowns, about to ask why, then remembers - Sugawara is not a regular, and likely his most strenuous activities for the day will be the penalty dives and runs. Yaku doesn't know how he'd deal with that, how it would feel if Shibayama had been some kind of libero prodigy, if he'd had to pass on the regular spot before he was finished using it. It gives him another burst of energy - if he's got this spot, he'd better appreciate it. 

He grabs two more dumplings for his breakfast, sticking a roll that won't quite fit on his tray between his teeth.

Bokuto and Kuroo wait at the doors of the cafeteria, having already finished breakfast, and Yaku can tell just from a look at Kuroo's stance, that he's posturing. Apparently recovered from his grumpy mood earlier, he's got his shoulders rolled back, arms crossed in front of his chest, an especially wide smirk on his face. He's probably making a bet, or daring Bokuto to do something ridiculous, and Yaku doesn't linger as he walks by, not wanting to get pulled into any of their antics.

It's not fast enough for him to miss Kuroo saying, "Of course Nekoma has our _own_ omega to brag about~" 

Yaku's got his mouth full, so it's not like he could say anything anyway, but any response is completely forgotten when Kuroo's hand swings down, and makes contact with Yaku's ass.

Yaku freezes.

He bites down on the roll, and it drops from his mouth, to his tray. 

He looks up, but Kuroo isn't even glancing his way, continuing to grin lazily at Bokuto. 

Yaku lifts his leg, slamming his foot into the highest part of Kuroo he can give a reasonably decent kick – Kuroo's upper thigh – sending him off balance, stumbling into Bokuto, but Yaku doesn't stop to see the damage or listen to their shouts, continuing on his way with heart in his throat.

What the _hell_. Was that. 

Kuroo has never done that to him before, he's never seen Kuroo do that to _anyone_ , and Yaku hates that there's a small part of him that's trying to catalog this behavior, make sense of it cast it in some kind of positive light. And the flirting yesterday, too, it could mean - maybe – he squashes down that especially pathetic line of thought, walking to the edge of the cafeteria, and keeps walking, down the steps, outside, still holding his tray.

He finds a set of concrete steps and sits down, tray on his lap, and stares down at it. He's still hungry, but his stomach is jostled unpleasantly with anger and nerves. What _was that??_

Truthfully, Yaku does not want the attention of alphas. Not - in the way that he probably should. He does like alphas, though, and he does like Kuroo. And for this week, Yaku will be one of the only options available. Well, really, the only option, given the fact that Akaashi is bonded, mated, and practically married, and the general maturity of the new crop of first years. It is obvious that Kuroo was only reacting to this. The flirting earlier, too, was probably the same thing. _The only option he had_ , the only omega he could possibly flirt and tease. It makes Yaku so furious he can't even eat.

Frustrated, and feeling like a fool for hoping otherwise, he kicks the brick wall beside him. 

It really doesn't help.

"These camps!" 

Yaku blinks in surprise, turning his head to see Coach Nekomata. Just behind him are the massive windows of the teacher's lounge, where the coaches take their breaks and have their meals. He grimaces. They must have all seen him storm by. Yaku has no idea what his expression must have looked like.

"Every year I look forward to them," Nekomata says. "But they do make privacy a rare commodity."

"Yeah," Yaku says, bringing down his knees, composing himself.

Kuroo may be the team alpha, but Nekomata rides him hard because of this, and blatantly, shamelessly, favors his omegas. There's a patient smile on Nekomata's face as he settles down beside Yaku on the step, and for a moment Yaku considers truly wrecking the rest of Kuroo's camp by telling Nekomata what just happened.

"Gyoza?" Yaku asks instead, bringing his tray back onto his lap, knowing his coach's weakness for the dumplings.

"Oh," Nekomata grunts, very seriously. "What sort of coach would I be if I stole breakfast from my libero?" But his eyes are trained on the pile of dumplings in the corner of his tray all the same.

"The kind that gets me extra stir-fry at lunch," Yaku suggests, tapping his chopsticks against his lips. 

"Terrible!" Nekomata scoffs, popping a dumping into his mouth. "Absolutely terrible."

He spends the rest of breakfast plucking the gyoza from Yaku's tray, and telling Yaku embarrassing stories about Karasuno's coach, which are almost entertaining enough to distract Yaku from imprint of Kuroo's hand on his ass.

~

"Omegas," Nekomata says, to the entire team, back in the gym. "Are precious. A team with happy omegas is one you should never take lightly." 

In Yaku's first year, these sorts of pep talks before a game were fine. He hadn't minded very much if his senpai saw him as _precious_ , because they liked reminding all the first years how _precious_ they were, Kai and Kuroo included. Now, he's a third year, and if he didn't have this exact combination of respect and affection for his coach, he'd ask him to stop. 

As is, he just pulls an awkward face, ignores the lingering stares from his teammates on himself and Shibayama, and endures it. They're playing Karasuno next and the smell of omega is thick in the air, making all the alphas antsy as hell. The coach has just finished his pep talk, the team is still in respectful, contemplative silence, when Lev turns to Yaku and inhales dramatically. 

"Morisuke-san," he says, solemnly. "You can entrust your happiness with me."

Yaku stares.

The entire team does a poor job of hiding their snorting laughter. Even Kai has to cover his grin, looking away - except Kuroo, who seems to have become as unamused by this behavior as Yaku, crossing his arms and frowning.

"If you want to see me happy," Yaku says, slowly. "Learn how to dig. And it's _Yaku-san!_ "

He pelts his empty water bottle at Lev's head, but he ducks in time, unfortunately.

They're playing Shinzen first. 

Yaku's been annoyed at Kuroo before games, of course, but never to the extent that he allowed it to interfere with their team. Kuroo has done plenty of annoying, obnoxious, stupid things – and so has Yaku. And Yaku knows that holding a grudge into a game would be prideful and selfish. Today, though, it feels like letting go would be in the wrong, pathetic and weak of him. Kuroo isn't Lev, he didn't disrespect Yaku of out immaturity and ignorance. Kuroo knows better, and it will take more to forgive him. 

So he calls receives for Kuroo, follows up on Kuroo's spikes, but does not return his looks or smiles, keeps the cold, firm line between them drawn. Even that doesn't really feel like enough, though. He wants to pick a fight, wants to shove at Kuroo and say cruel things. He wants Kuroo to feel the extent of his anger and know it hasn't died down at all. 

The best he can do without acting like a child is ignore Kuroo when he tries to hand Yaku a water bottle after a sprint penalty, while Yaku is sprawled, panting at the bottom of the hill. Yaku glares and starts to climb to his feet, but Kuroo puts out a hand, stopping him. 

"Kuroo – "

"About breakfast," Kuroo says, quickly, preemptively wincing. 

Yaku looks up at him, waiting silently. 

"I was, ah. Trying to slap your back," Kuroo says, looking off to the side, scratching at the back of his head, rapid and awkward. "I missed."

Yaku is quiet for a moment. "Then why didn't you _move_?"

"Well!" Kuroo huffs. "It's kind of like having a tiger by the tail at that point, Yakkun. But. Sorry," he says. "Really."

Yaku looks down his own feet, unable to sort out his feelings, or decide if he believes Kuroo. But. It's enough of an excuse, enough of an effort that Yaku should, reasonably, let it go.

It didn't mean anything.

By the time he looks up again, he's put a smirk on his face. "I should've known even you wouldn't be that stupid."

"Hey!" Kuroo says, but there's a laugh of relief there. "But – really. We're okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Yaku says, knocking Kuroo's hand away when he reaches down to help Yaku to his feet.

What a mess.


	2. Chapter Two

By midafternoon, Karasuno has taken eleven refreshing sprints up the grassy hill, so Yaku calls their first years over, pulling an oversized tub of sunscreen out of his bag, something he started bringing along after his own especially miserable, sun burnt, first year.

"Get your faces at least," Yaku says, smearing a generous blob of sunscreen on Hinata's cupped hands.

"Thank you, Yaku-san!!" Hinata says, doing just that.

Yaku blinks rapidly when Yamaguchi steps closer, holding out his hands. Yamaguchi carries with him a strong breath of powdery soft lilies, cool and refreshing, especially in this heat. Tsukishima's is similarly enticing, still that sharp, tart scent from earlier, reminding Yaku of green apple and bergamot, while even Kageyama's scent is a ridiculously decadent thing. All Yaku can think of is _fancy dessert_ until he places it as spiced pears - they're all strong, tempting and impossible to miss. Yaku tries to imagine himself in first year, how he would've handled the attention his teammates gave him this morning. He's not entirely sure. It would've been unpleasant, though.

"Any – uh. Trouble with alphas?" he asks, capping the sunscreen.

Tsukishima's flat, annoyed look is actually a reassurance, because it's the sort of expression one has about a persistent bug, not about something he can't handle. "Just the usual," he says.

"Thanks, Yaku-san," Kageyama says with a short bow, and the other two echo it.

" _Morisuke-kun!_ " Nishinoya says, bounding over, shoving his face directly in front of Yaku. "Get my face, please!" 

"Yeah, me too," Tanaka says, dropping low enough to do the same. 

"Eh.. " Yaku grimaces slightly, taking a step back. "Hands, please… " and once they present them, he squeezes it into both of their palms. Yaku rolls his eyes when he sees the poor job Hinata has done on himself, globs left on his cheeks and between his eyes.

"Come here," Yaku says, and starts rubbing it in for him. 

"Mori – "

" _Yaku_."

"Yaku-san," Lev corrects, leaning down into his vision. "Can I have some sunscreen?"

"I already gave you some this morning," Yaku says.

"I know, but," Lev is looking between Yaku, and Yaku's hands rubbing the sunscreen into Hinata's cheeks. "Maybe you could make sure I got everywh – "

"No."

Karasuno has ten more sprints up the hill before they finish, and Hinata makes a point of saying thanks again at the end of the day, impossibly energetic as they all begin clean up. 

"Karasuno's kohai mind their senpai so well," Yaku says, gathering stray balls on the second story walkway with Sugawara. "I'm jealous."

"Well," Sugawara says, playing humble. "You saw in the baths. They don't mind anyone once they start bickering. It seems like your first years all get along with each other?"

"They do," Yaku admits.

"And Shibayama is polite," Sugawara says. "Inuoka, too."

"They are," Yaku agrees. 

"So, really, it's just… "

They both look down at Lev. 

Sugawara doesn't bother to hide his knowing smile. "It's sweet, in a way."

"Have you ever had this – problem?" Yaku asks, looking across the gym at the Karasuno first years. Kageyama and Hinata have somehow managed to get tangled in the net as they were taking it down, and are now shouting at one another about it, while Tsukishima and Yamaguchi hold brooms, snickering at the performance. 

"Not particularly," Sugawara says. "Those two… " The net is wrapped around Hinata's head, and Kageyama is pulling it tighter, so the skin of Hinata's round cheeks poke through ridiculously. "Aren't thinking seriously about things like that, I don't think. And the other two are more interested in alphas – I think."

"Lucky," Yaku says. He was certain this would be something Sugawara had experience with. The calm, kind beta senpai is such a _thing_ , and he's so pretty on top of that. 

"Honestly, if you're having problems, Lev seems pretty durable," Sugawara says. "I think it's safe to be straightforward with him."

Yaku scowls. "I don't think he really realizes it himself, yet."

"Oh," Sugawara says.

" _'Lev, you know that crush you have on me? No? Well, get over it.'_ "

"I think... if it was me, anyway," Sugawara says, frowning as he thinks about it. "I'd ask Daichi to talk to him about it. Alpha to alpha."

"Ugh," Yaku says, tossing the ball into the cart below them roughly. "Your captain makes me jealous, too!"

Sugawara laughs again. "What's wrong with Kuroo?"

All Yaku can picture is Kuroo's lazy, wicked grin, the low, rumbling chuckle from his throat, then the awkward way he avoided Yaku's stare while apologizing, his increasing impatience with Lev, and can't come up with the words. "Too much to say."

Sugawara laughs, and they climb down the ladder to free the still tangled first years.

~

"It's warm this time," Yaku says.

Kageyama was very slowly testing the temperature of the bath with his fingers, hesitating just above the surface. He blushes at Yaku's comment, then climbs in. Yaku snickers, and hopes they get to the point that he can make fun of him for it before camp ends.

"Oh, Akaashi-san!" Shibayama says. "Kageyama-kun had some questions for you."

Kageyama freezes up. Yaku's seen how roughly he handles Hinata, but he doesn't seem to know how to approach being angry at someone like Shibayama – who only tilts his head to the side, and blinks, obliviously, when Kageyama glares at him. 

"Questions?" Akaashi asks, raising an eyebrow. 

"I – " Kageyama huffs. "Nothing."

Akaashi considers Kageyama for a moment, then seems to accept that. 

"Where's Tsukishima?" Yaku asks, wanting to change the subject.

"Practicing blocks with Kuroo-san and Bokuto-san," Akaashi says. 

Both Yaku and Kageyama react to that. 

"That's surprising," Sugawara says, lightly. "Tsukishima really isn't one for extra practice."

"Well, they didn't give him much choice about it," Akaashi says. 

Yaku has spent three years not getting jealous. Even in first year, when he realized his crush, even now watching omegas sit on Kuroo's desk and offer him bites of their lunch. He has no idea why this suddenly hit a chord. After all, he just established with Kuroo: there is nothing between them.

He spends the rest of the bath distracted, heading to bed early, and actually passing by a particularly sour looking Tsukishima.

"Did they already drain the baths?" Tsukishima asks, sweaty, exhausted, and irritable. Yaku shakes his head no, and stands there, watching the first year's long, lean silhouette grow smaller, before turning the corner to the locker room. 

Yaku does not know Tsukishima well, and he is hardly an expert at reading people, but. He thinks. Tsukishima is not a person Kuroo would have to carve a place for, he could fit there on his own. His casually cynical nature would play well against Kuroo's brutal kindness, and that paper-thin defensiveness is exactly the sort of thing Kuroo likes to toy with most. They've only known each other few days and Yaku could see - something. If Kuroo wanted, and Tsukishima wanted.

Yaku taps his water bottle against his thigh, wondering if he's really even all that close to Kuroo. Outside of volleyball. And their volleyball together is ending. He feels a frown on his face at this depressing line of thought. He remembers Kuroo's comment, about how you've already lost when you confess your feelings, and thinks he understands it better, now. This is a loss. Yaku should just let this go. It's not like he ever had any of Kuroo to begin with - 

"Yakkun!!!" Bokuto says, coming up from behind and ruffling Yaku's hair as he passes. "Aahhh, you gotta get some of this stuff for Akaashi! What is it? You smell like candy."

"I don't think Akaashi wants to smell like candy," Yaku says. 

"What's wrong with candy?" Kuroo says. Bokuto gives a sudden _oof_ as Kuroo shoves him forward, away from Yaku. "You've got your own omega, don't get handsy with mine."

Yaku closes his eyes, feeling all his resolve unravel under his fingers. "You two reek," he says, and heads to bed.

In their assigned room, Yaku sets out his shorts and shirt for tomorrow, putting his sneakers beside that, then lays out on his stomach to mess around on his phone until lights out. 

It doesn't matter anyway, he reminds himself. Whatever Kuroo says, it's all coming to an end. Yaku will go to college, meet new and different people, new and different alphas, and be _glad_ he wasn't bagged down by this ridiculous - bedheaded high school crush. Enough time will pass that he won't even be able to remember why he liked Kuroo to begin with! But that is a dangerous line of thought, and he should know better by now than to head down it, because immediately he's thinking of how cold winter was last year. How he had forgotten his gloves one morning, and how Kuroo had seen him trying to warm his hands by his mouth, grabbed them, and yanked them into his own pockets. Their fingers had twined together in the intimate warmth, and Yaku had been stunned by how natural and easy the closeness had felt, how thoughtlessly Kuroo had done it, and all he could do was bite down a smile, press his cheek against Kuroo's back, feeling his solid shape through his jacket, hearing his voice echo in his chest as he kept talking to the others about an upcoming test he was dreading, occasionally running his thumbs across the back of Yaku's hands... 

Lev walks by, whistling to himself, and his clown-sized feet kick one of Yaku's sneakers into the far wall, the sound of it pulling Yaku from his thoughts.

"Ah! Sorry, Yaku-san!" he says, hurrying after it. 

"You should watch where you're going," Yaku says, but his heart isn't in it, doesn't even lift his chin from his hand. "That could've been someone's glasses. Or my phone."

Lev doesn't say anything, so Yaku looks up. Lev is still crouched on the ground. He's picked up Yaku's shoe, and is staring down at it – he's holding it in his open palm, which is part of his stupidly gigantic hands, big enough that Yaku's shoe barely spans the whole length of it, sitting safely on his palm. Lev seems stunned. 

"This is Yaku-san's shoe?" Lev asks.

Yaku waits for the stupid, thoughtlessly chipper comment to follow, but it never does. Lev genuinely seems moved by the size of Yaku's shoe.

Yaku clears his throat, holding out his hand. Lev gives it over after blinking a bit.

He still doesn't speak, but he stares as Yaku climbs under his blankets, apparently still stunned.

It's an unsettling moment, and pure stubbornness that has Yaku sleeping in the room with Nekoma again, but he's picked an area near the window, next to Shibayama and Kenma, and has to remind himself several times nothing will happen – Lev knows better than anyone how willing Yaku is to kick his ass.

~

Breakfast finds Kuroo and Kai sitting together in a corner, which would be enough of an invite for Yaku to join, except that Lev is there, as well, and that non-moment before bed still has him a little cautious. He's had all night to get his thoughts together, and Yaku is sure he's not going to like whatever's going to come out of the kid's mouth.

He's not sure what Lev is saying _now_ , but Kai's expression is a deeply pained, rapidly blinking poker face, while Kuroo is clearly encouraging Lev and enjoying the hell out of it. 

Yaku decides he'd rather not know, but then Kuroo meets his gaze and his eyes narrow in ominous, cat-like amusement.

Sighing, Yaku approaches. 

"But what about college?" Kuroo is asking. 

"Oh, we'll be bonded by then," Lev says, around the food in his mouth, waving away the question dismissively. 

Kai chokes on the food in his mouth, and Kuroo's smile grows. 

"A bond!" Kuroo says. "And what about kids? You were saying something about wanting two boys?"

"Eh? I didn't say boys!" Lev says. "I don't care, but yeah we'll have at least two. Maybe even four!" 

Yaku slowly tilts his head to the side. This.. can't be… what it sounds like. He looks at Kuroo, who grins again, raising his eyebrow.

"What if he's infertile?" Kuroo asks. "Most male omegas are, you know." 

"No way," Lev says, shaking his head. "I can tell. Mori-san is strong! He'll definitely carry healthy babies for me."

Yaku blinks.

He takes a step back, and considers the chair Lev is sitting on.

There's a moment, as Yaku leans back, bringing up his leg for the kick, where he glances up and sees Kuroo's smile drop, and something darker take its place. It derails his anger, but not his foot, which slams into the back leg, and the chair cracks, folding under Lev's stupidly heavy weight, and he goes tumbling backward with a yelp, where, unfortunately, his head hits the tile floor of the cafeteria with a _CRACK_. 

They call in a nurse.

~

"Well, he's not concussed," Kuroo says.

Yaku nods, relieved. 

Kuroo continues on, leaning against the wall outside the nurse's office lazily, detailing the nurse's report.

Now that he knows Lev has no lasting damage, annoyance starts to take its rightful place as Yaku watches Kuroo speak, frowning. Kuroo is great at needling people. He enjoys it, and it usually gets him the reaction he wants. 

Kuroo likes that. Getting reactions from people. In retrospect it's obvious that Yaku was being played, because Kuroo saw a window to tease Lev, and Yaku's reaction was the punchline. 

"So we'll need to check his eyes once an hour for the next few – what?" Kuroo asks. 

"What?" Yaku asks.

Kuroo tilts his head to the side. "You're going to pretend like you're not glaring at me?"

"You're going to pretend like you weren't egging Lev on?"

Kuroo blinks in surprise. He opens his mouth to say something, then hesitates. 

"Great," Yaku says, shaking with his anger, turning around to leave. "I hope you enjoyed yourself, Kuroo."

"Wait, Yaku," Kuroo says, sounding tired. Of himself, Yaku assumes. "I – "

"You _what?_ Thought it was funny??" Yaku has to resist the urge to shove Kuroo's stupid chest. "What is your problem?? You've been an asshole since we got here!"

Kuroo pauses. He actually seems to be thinking it over, gaze going inward. Yaku was expecting a fight, _wanting_ a fight, but this sudden drop of energy is something – serious and real and potentially dangerous. Yaku regrets the question immediately, not wanting to hear whatever horrible truth lives in Kuroo's mouth. 

"If... I'm being honest," he finally says. "I like when you get pissed off."

Yaku stiffens.

"Seeing Lev-chan pursue you so openly… " Kuroo shrugs. "I liked seeing you shut him down. I liked seeing you angry about it."

"You – " Yaku says. "You encouraged Lev _just_ to see me turn him down?"

Kuroo meets his gaze, expression still cold, and frank.

Yaku wasn't the punchline to Kuroo teasing Lev. Lev was the punchline to Kuroo teasing Yaku. "That's _sadistic_."

"Yeah," he sighs. "I know."

They keep staring, Kuroo accepting this terrible fact about himself without excuses, but also without real apology. The smell of alpha is thick in the air, pure aggression, and makes it abundantly clear exactly what is going on, exactly the sort of posturing at play.

Lev broke the rules, thoughtlessly, was attempting to usurp Kuroo's place as the team alpha, as _Yaku's_ alpha, and Kuroo had reacted with instinctive, Kuroo-brand aggression: setting a scene into motion that had Lev digging his own grave. Yaku's seen this happen before, his own family is full of alphas and he knows how insidious these urges can be when they strike, but he's never been caught up in the middle of one before. It's as though he can feel the claim Kuroo is attempting to restate floating in the very air around them - Kuroo defeated Lev, and now he wants a claim of ownership, of a pack, none of the softness that should come with an alpha seeking a mate, and Yaku feels his anger building again. _Why_ should he go along with this claim? Why does Kuroo want it? What has he done with it? Instinctively, Yaku feels his lip starting to curl, ready fight to it off, this is _not_ the kind of alpha he wants, not like this – 

"Anyway," Kuroo says, taking a step back, getting out of Yaku's face. "I'll talk with him."

"Why? The problem isn't Lev," Yaku says. "It's _you_."

Kuroo flinches as though Yaku had reached out and slapped him, but doesn't offer any more defense. Yaku glares, then turns and storms down the hall. 

Morning practices should still be going strong, but Yaku can't imagine the mess Nekoma is with Kuroo, Yaku, and Lev all out. Well, it gives Inuoka some time to play, at least... 

"Yaku-san!!" Karasuno's captain, Sawamura calls, waving when he sees Yaku turn the hall to the gym. "Sorry, but we were hoping to get another omega's opinion..."

"What?" Yaku asks, still on edge and growing tense again. Nothing good is going to follow that – either something's wrong with one of the other omegas, or Sawamura is about to ask an incredibly embarrassing question. This would be out of character for Sawamura, but after this week Yaku's not giving alphas any quarter.

"One of our first years is in heat," Sawamura says. "He says he can stay for the rest of camp, but, ah. He doesn't have the best history of being honest about his own condition when it comes to sitting out on volleyball."

"Right," Yaku says, deciding that was somewhere in the middle.

He follows Sawamura to the room Karasuno's been using, and it's Kageyama, unsurprisingly. 

His cheeks are flushed, legs up against his chest, glaring at a neutral space ahead of him while Asahi and Hinata crowd in.

There's no point in asking how he's feeling, Yaku's sure. He sits in front of the boy, who can't seem to bring himself to glare at a third year from another school outside of a game. It downgrades to a pout, and his gaze drops to the side. 

Well, his eyes aren't glazed over, he seems coherent, and even in heat, even a day after the cleanser, his scent his steady and strong, a sweet, pleasant thing.

"When did it hit?" Yaku asks.

"Friday," Kageyama mutters.

"Since before you got here?!" Hinata shouts.

"Why does that matter??" Kageyama shouts back, and the two of them bark at each other for a bit. 

Yaku stiffens, considering this. 

Kuroo's uncharacteristically aggressive behavior, Lev's over the top – Lev-ness... It didn't start until Karasuno showed up, did it? Bringing with them the exciting, new scent of not just omegas, but an unfamiliar omega in heat, and it's subtle enough that they wouldn't've noticed…

"Well. He seems fine," Yaku says, standing up again. "Don't know if I can say the same of some of the alphas on other teams."

"Do you think – it's a risk?" Asahi asks, looking between Kageyama and Yaku. "Maybe we should send him home – "

Kageyama's shoulders move up further, his face twisting in anger, and Yaku doesn't blame him.

"I think alphas should be expected to control themselves. Don't you?" Yaku says in a clipped, coldly furious tone, and even though it's not directed at anyone in Karasuno, he can sense the alphas backing away a bit, giving him his space. "But Kageyama should probably start sleeping – you know. In privacy. For propriety’s sake."

"Where? All the rooms are used up."

"With the managers, maybe?"

"No, two of them are alphas," Sugawara says. "Saeko is in there, too." 

"Looks like Kageyama's gonna be camping out on the courts!" Tanaka laughs. "A dream come true, right??"

Kageyama actually looks pleased with this suggestion, but Yaku grins, having a much better idea. 

~

"There's not enough space!" Yamamoto whines that night, holding his mat and blankets to his chest, standing in the room all Nekoma and Karasuno alphas are now sharing. 

"Squeeze in," Yaku says, mercilessly, sliding the doors shut with a slam.

"So this is Mori-san's heartless side…"

"Shut up! This is all your fault, Lev!" one of them shouts.

This leaves the betas and omegas their own space, a whole classroom, but still only Sugawara and Kenma take advantage of it. 

"Is this a good idea?" Tsukishima says, lingering near the door with his own mat in his arms, not quite settling in. "It could kick off all our heats, right?"

"I think that's an old wives tale," Yaku says. "I've never seen a catching heat first hand."

"Eri-san and I always have our heats at the same time!" Shibayama says.

"If it happens every time," Tsukishima says. "Then you're probably just on the same schedule."

"Well, you've been sleeping in the same room as Kageyama since we got here, so I think it's safe," Sugawara says. "But if you really don't want to risk it, I'm sure you could sleep with the managers."

Tsukishima makes such a face at that, and finally lays out his mat near the wall, as far away as he can get. This display is ridiculous, and Yaku knows he was right about Kuroo's interest in the first year: this is the sort of thing that would make him laugh out loud. Sugawara exchanges an amused look with Yaku, and they shrug and lay down to bed. 

Akaashi apparently has a longer bedtime ritual, uncapping a bottle of lotion and spreading it across his arms and legs, then neck and chest. It's soothing to watch, and Yaku finds himself falling asleep as Akaashi pays extra attention to his elbows.

Of course, Yaku wakes up in heat. 

His heats are slow to start, lasting about two weeks, and building in intensity to the point that he typically takes one or two days off toward the end. Otherwise, outside of increased sensitivity and a richer scent, he's fairly normal. He should be fine to finish camp, and the most annoying thing about this is waking up to Tsukishima's smug, knowing grin.

"How are you feeling, Yaku-san?" he asks, pulling on his glasses.

Yaku glares sleepily and chucks his pillow at Tsukishima's face. 

Generally speaking, the longer pack alphas are around an omega, the more accustomed they grow to their scent, including their heat. Kuroo has been around Yaku through nearly fifteen heats, an Lev has been there for three. He's not expecting them to even consciously notice, but Lev's eyes visibly dilate when Yaku walks into the cafeteria that morning.

Deciding he's had enough of that ridiculousness, Yaku sits with Sugawara, and is surprised when the rest of the omegas end up drifting to the same table, even the disagreeable first years. 

It's the first time he really understood why Shibayama was smiling so much when he saw Karasuno enter the gym.

~

Betas have mild scents as a general rule, so when Yaku switches out with Fukunaga after five points against Karasuno, and feels someone sniffing at his hair, and smells _beta_ , his first reaction is to ask what the hell Sugawara thinks he's doing.

"Yaku-san," Inuoka says.

Yaku blinks, then gives an incredulous laugh. "Inuoka?"

"I have a headache," he says, a little whiny, turning to rub his cheek against the top of Yaku's head, and Yaku thinks this is probably the way he speaks to his mother when he's feeling sick: ridiculous and pitiful.

"Uh," he laughs again. "Nekomata has asprin – "

"You smell really good. Even better than before," he says. This time his arms slide around Yaku's middle, pulling him closer against him. 

Yaku freezes.

Inuoka is erect. 

He is. Fucking rock hard, and Yaku knows because it's pressing into his back. 

" _Kuroo -_ "

Yaku regrets it the second it's out of his mouth, lips pressing together hard, as though he could take it back, make it so he called for Nekomata or Kai instead, but. It's instinctive. It's not often Yaku simply _does not know_ what to do, and the past week of Kuroo being an asshole hasn't changed the fact that in those cases, he has come to rely on Kuroo. 

Inuoka still smells like a beta, but. He has obviously flipped to alpha, and as one would expect, it's triggered a rut.

Yaku knows his eyes have gone round and wide, not sure how to convey all this, but Kuroo seems to realize the issue immediately, not even bothering to call timeout before rushing over. The ball drops on Karasuno's side in the confusion, game coming to a puzzled stop, while Kuroo approaches, eyes traveling up and down the both of them, evaluating.

"Inuoka," Kuroo finally says, using his captain voice. "I need your help with something." 

Inuoka _growls_.

Yaku's eyes grow wider, exhaling as Inuoka tugs him tighter against his chest.

Now, Yaku's starting to smell alpha, and he can feel his body locking up in response. He's in heat, and an alpha is pressing his full fucking cock against his back. He closes his eyes tight and grits his teeth. The rest of their team has realized the problem, and are lingering at a safe distance, not wanting to exacerbate the situation - a first rut is notoriously overwhelming, even for born-as alphas who spend their lives up to that point preparing for it. Inuoka's been blindsided by instincts and hormones and is going to be deeply humiliated once he comes back to himself as is, Yaku is hoping no sudden moves give him something to _actually_ regret, for both of their sakes.

"You know, it's been a long day. Lev needs a rest," Kuroo tries a new angle, cajoling now. "Want to sub in? Play the rest of the set?"

Inuoka pauses at this, seriously considering the offer, and in the distraction his arms loosen, just slightly – 

Yaku takes it, shoving against Inuoka's forearms to break his hold - but with a low, warning snarl, Inuoka tightens his grip again, yanking Yaku even closer than before. It doesn't really hurt, he's just so annoyingly _big_. If he decided to squeeze harder, and keep squeezing, Yaku's really not sure if he'd be able to struggle free, and the sudden thought is – not good, and not something he can forget. He's trapped. 

" _Kuroo_ ," Yaku snaps, squirming instinctively. He glares at Kuroo, demanding - _do something_.

Kuroo's expression goes dark and he drops all pretense, marching toward Inuoka with all the intent and purpose of the pack alpha he is. 

"Hey, Inu-kun!" Shibayama suddenly says, popping into view, smiling sweetly. "Wanna come with me to the nurse's office?"

Inuoka huffs. 

Yaku feels some of the tension ease out of Inuoka's arms, but holds still, waiting. When Shibayama reaches out his hand, Inuoka takes it, and _finally_ lets Yaku go.

Yaku ducks his head, braces himself against his knees, breathing hard and fast, watching Shibayama lead Inuoka out of the gym, immediately followed by Yamamoto and Sawamaru.

"You alright?" Kuroo asks, his hand hovering uncertainly over Yaku's shoulder, pulling back sharply when Yaku glares up at him. 

"Fine," he says. 

Nothing is forgiven, but if Kuroo keeps looking at him like this, soft and concerned, Yaku will probably end up forgetting that. End up assuming it means something it doesn't, yet again. Who knows why Kuroo's looking at him like that? Probably not even Kuroo. Yaku turns and leaves the gym, and no one stops him. A few moments later, Sugawara comes out to keep him company. The last thing Yaku wants to do is talk about what just happened, or anything heat, alpha, or Kuroo related, so Sugawara tells him about he's almost got enough saved for a driver's license exam, how people always misread the kanji for Karasuno, how one time Hinata double laced his sneakers so hard Sugawara was forced to find a pair of scissors to cut them off, and several other topics that do no matter at all.

Finally, Yaku tips his head back and groans.

"This has been," Yaku says. "The worst camp. Ever. Easily. Easily this is the worst camp I've _ever_ had."

Sugawara laughs weakly. "I have a feeling our team didn't really help matters," he says. "Sorry about that."

"No," Yaku says. "I mean, that's probably true, but I would expect Kuroo to control himself even if one hundred omegas in heat showed up."

"Is it just that?" Sugawara asks. "Kuroo?"

"Lev isn't helping. The fact that it's all over after this year isn't helping," Yaku says, frowning. "This early heat isn't helping. But yeah." Yaku doesn't even like to admit this, but. "Mainly Kuroo."

"He was pretty freaked out when you left the gym," Sugawara says. "I don't know if that helps."

"It doesn't," Yaku says. He knows, now, especially after that scene in the hall. Yaku can't keep wasting energy on this, but he can't help it, and every piece of information like that gets him chasing that carrot on a stick again, hoping. "What are they serving for dinner?"

"The usual, I think," Sugawara says, accepting the topic change, and they sit out there another half hour or so, until the managers come by to tell them dinner's ready.

His spirits have successfully risen at this point, which is, of course, why he walks into the cafeteria to see Lev standing up, and pointing at Kuroo, dramatically. 

"Kuroo," Lev says. "I'm challenging you for Yaku-san!"

The cafeteria goes silent. Kuroo raises an eyebrow. He does not look amused. "In what?"

Lev is completely, utterly serious. "Basketball."

Yaku gets his tray, and waits in line for dinner, and does not react. 

Behind him, the two alphas make a formal agreement, and leave the cafeteria.

"What was that??" he hears Hinata ask at another table.

"Well, Nekoma is a pretty traditional school… " Sugawara starts to explain, awkwardly. 

"I think it'd be pretty cool," Shibayama says, a little nervously, seeing Yaku's dead eyed stare when he sits down at the table. "If two alphas were fighting over me like that. Especially a cool alpha like Kuroo-san."

"Yeah," he says. "It's neato."

Lev really couldn't wait until after camp? But of course he couldn't, Lev can't wait for anything. Yaku wants to cover his face with his hands but forces himself to keep eating. He can't tell if others are staring, but he expects they are, and wouldn't blame them for it. It was quite the scene.

This mess would be so much easier if he hated Lev. Lev has become monumentally agitating the past week or so, and he was already pretty annoying to start with, but truly Yaku likes him just fine. His passion and drive is admirable, and so on, whatever. He also knows that he could damage Lev in a very real way if he handles this rejection incorrectly. He knows this is where his attention should be, but he can't help the desperate, pathetic wish: In a perfect, dream world, Kuroo would take the challenge seriously, beat Lev, Yaku wouldn't have to reject him, Kuroo would confess to Yaku, and they'd – Yaku's thoughts stop there, because he's never had a relationship before, and he doesn't know what those really consist of in high school. High school is almost over, but even then Yaku doesn't know what the future will bring, and doesn't feel the need to guess. They'd just... see what comes next, with the mutual agreement that they'd do their best to make sure the other person is in it.

It's the vague wish he's had since first year, and it feels so hopeless and naive now that it almost makes his eyes sting as he gets up from the table. If Kuroo does attempt to beat Lev, it will only be out of pride, because he wants to keep the pack stable, at _best_ because he feels some sort of pack possessiveness toward Yaku, as his captain. He feels almost nauseated, remembering the suffocating, possessive sort of claim Kuroo had attempted before.

Yaku skips the baths, in and out of the shower before any of the other omegas arrive, going to his mat, pulling the blankets it over his head, putting in his earbuds to watch _Seven Samurai_ on his phone. He pokes his head out once the movie ends and sees the room is still empty, so he goes back under to watch another movie. This time he only gets half way through before curiosity gets the better of him – Akaashi is in the room, reading a book, but no one else.

"They're still in the bath," Akaashi says, he pauses a beat, as though trying to decide if he should share the next bit. "And Bokuto-san is watching Kuroo-san and Lev's game."

"It's still going??" Yaku demands. It's been at least two hours. 

"They were on best seven out of nine, last I heard," Akaashi says.

"Jesus Christ," Yaku says, and pulls the blanket back over his head. He doesn't come out again for another two movies. The room is dark by then, except for Kenma, who is also on his phone, and glances up when he sees Yaku has emerged. 

"What happened with the game?" Yaku asks.

"They were still going when I came in here," Kenma says, avoiding Yaku's gaze.

"When was that?"

"About ten minutes ago."

Yaku stares, then gets up, still in his sleep shorts and shirt, and leaves the room.

Down the hall, he doesn't know which gym they're in, but he follows the faint, sour waft of competing alphas on the breeze and it doesn't take long to find the only room with the lights still on.

The door is open, and Yaku stands in the entrance, taking in the scene. 

There's the familiar squeak of sneakers against polished wood, and Yaku sees Kuroo and Lev moving slowly, clumsily, fumbling the ball twice while he stands there. Yaku himself has never played basketball, but he's fairly sure at this point he could go in there and wipe the floor with both of them, from how much effort it's taking Lev to get the ball across the court, and how Kuroo can barely keep up with it. The gym is huge, all the windows are open, and it's just the two of them in there but the competing musk is still thick in the air.

"Are you kidding me?" Yaku asks.

They both stop in surprise, looking at Yaku with breathless, heaving chests, but Yaku flinches when he sees their stares. Fucking alphas. Their eyes are bright and hot and more focused than ever. Neither of them are ready to back down yet. 

"You need to stop," he says. 

"But – "

"Pick it up in the morning if you have to, I couldn't care less, but it's late and you both look like shit," Yaku says. 

Alphas in the heat of competition aren't especially known for their ability to listen to reason, so Yaku can't imagine how exhausted they actually are, that they both agree to this, putting the basketball away, promising to wipe down the floors in the morning, and turning off the lights.

Lev's legs wobble on his way to the alpha locker room, and Yaku sticks his arm out before Kuroo can follow.

He waits until Lev goes around the corner, then pushes Kuroo back into the dark gym. Kuroo goes along with this, eyes bright, until he clocks in on the anger in Yaku's face.

"What are you doing?" Yaku demands. 

"He challenged – "

"Yeah," Yaku says. "Why the hell haven't you let him win?"

Kuroo blinks, like he forgot that was even an option. Finally, he clears his throat. "You want him to?"

"Yeah! I do!" Yaku says. "I want you to get over yourself, let him win, so I can turn him down, and we can move on already!!"

"You'd turn him down?" Kuroo asks. 

" _Of course??_ " Yaku snarls. "This is – "

"Would you turn me down?"

Yaku stares. 

"Yaku?"

Yaku's anger regroups. "If you want to say something, just say it." 

"Ha," Kuroo says, flatly. He runs his hand through his hair, and the sweat from their marathon of a game actually holds it in place, swept back, giving a clear view of his face, and his wry, self-depreciating grin. "Lev is... really good at basketball."

Yaku waits.

"I guess that shouldn't be a surprise. He kept - pulling ahead, and I knew - I should stop. I should just let go. But," he licks his lips. "Every chance I had to give up, I kept thinking – I was the only thing standing in the way of him – touching you."

" _I_ would stop him from touching me, Kuroo."

"... I guess you would." Kuroo grins like it's a painful thing.

 _That's it? That's all you have to say, Lev is good at basketball?_ Yaku wants to prod him, force a response, but he's not helping Kuroo through this. He says it, plain and clear, or he doesn't.

"I guess... " Kuroo says, leaning in closer in what could be a lazy, exhausted slump if it wasn't blocking Yaku against the wall. "It's probably too late for this."

Kuroo's gaze drops from a neutral spot on the wall ahead of him to Yaku's face.

His expression is not the aggressive thing from his competition with Lev.

It's not the shameless, threatening alpha in the hall. _The best you can do is hope they show you mercy._ Kuroo stares, exhausted, spent, vulnerable and open, and Yaku sees the quiver of exertion in Kuroo's arm, above his head. "I guess I wanted to touch you instead. Wanted - to feel you." Kuroo is wired up, desperate sincerity. Imploring. He expects to be told no. Yaku wonders at this, how it could be possible. Kuroo knows - Kuroo's _known_ , since first year, but Kuroo is so sure of this rejection that he sounds a little defensive as he continues. "You - I mean, you're mine already, right? I can at least ask, right?"

Yaku says nothing for a moment, feeling oddly calm as he meets Kuroo's stare. 

Maybe he can help him out. Just a little. "You can ask."

Kuroo smiles again. Bittersweet. Bracing for rejection. "You're my omega," he says. "Right?" 

Yaku's heat his making his body sensitive, he's hyper aware of each exhale brushing against the tender skin of his lips, the fabric of his shirt resting against his skin. How very thin it is, and how little protection it offers against Kuroo, who really is unfairly tall, and has hands large enough to span the entire width of Yaku's back, and who is so warm Yaku can feel his body heat through his shirt. There's a lot of nonsense kicked up into the air between them, especially this past week, but his body knows this. His body knows Kuroo, and the potent scent of an alpha who is strong, who was pushed to his limit because he was showing that strength, that endurance, to prove himself, and it pleases the omega in Yaku. His own rational self is considering Kuroo's words, his pleas - Kuroo _begging_ , really? - and slowly settling to a comfortable alignment with his body that makes more sense, is more satisfying than the awful, twisted ball of conflicted emotions he's been carrying around in his gut the past three years. Yes. Yes, this is - yes.

The word is soft, barely more than a breath. "Sure."

There's a beat where Kuroo blinks in honest surprise, twice, processing it. Yaku opens his mouth to tease or taunt Kuroo into action but then Kuroo exhales in a kind of snarl, traveling the distance between them, using one hand to tilt Yaku's chin up, devouring his mouth.

_Oh._

Yaku flails for a moment, finally resting his hands on Kuroo's biceps, clinging as his mind tries to sort out what's just happened. This is - _Kuroo is -_ Kuroo _wants_ \- Kuroo's _scent_ , the familiar saffron and red hot candies. Red hot candies he, incidentally, finds too hot to eat, preferring sweets with sugary and mild flavors. Yaku whines a little, for some reason impossibly frustrated when he remembers this, wrapping an arm around Kuroo's neck and pulling him down further, kissing back.

"Fuck," Kuroo snarls, standing upright and bringing Yaku with him, against the wall, pinning him there to kiss properly, brutally, and the strength this takes sends arousal through Yaku's body in hot, electric pulses. He wraps his legs around Kuroo's waist, and feeling his warmth – _that warmth_ , the warmth of his crotch – so generously pressed against his own makes him shudder, gripping the back of Kuroo's head and digging his nails in. 

That's when Kuroo huffs against Yaku's mouth, breaking the kiss to look him straight in the eye. Kuroo's been working himself up into a pheromone heavy cloud several hours straight, and Yaku's in heat. There's nothing in either of them to slow it down when Kuroo starts grinding, spreading his legs slightly for better footing, breathing hard as he rolls his hips up and against Yaku. Yaku's mouth drops, going slack at this feeling – what it's promising, what it's clearly mimicking, and how good it feels, Kuroo's wakening cock against his own, thick and hard and huge, fuck. 

"What does my Yaku look like when he comes?" Kuroo asks, voice a lewd, taunting rumble. 

"Oh," Yaku's voice shakes. "Shit."

He feels his legs tightening on either side of Kuroo's hips, wanting to tense, curl up, but Kuroo's bulk prevents it, and he whines at the feel of arousal this brings, being forced to spread like this. "Oh shit," he whines again, more broken this time, his hips joining Kuroo in its obscene rocking motion, grinding against him. He's getting slick, the wetness is spreading with each grind of Kuroo against him, his shorts are going to be ruined, and if Kuroo keeps this up, his will be as well.

Yaku feels it coming, building, ready to burst and make Yaku moan when it does. Kuroo is staring, intently, licking his lips, eager for it to happen. 

It is clearer than it has ever been, surrounded by Kuroo's scent, held up by Kuroo's strength, made to cry out from Kuroo's touch: he's Kuroo's. This is his alpha. For better or worse, Kuroo has spent the last three years imprinting on him in a very permanent way. This way – this base, primal way, was the last bit of Yaku he had yet to claim, and now he's done it, and made Yaku shiver and shake at how good it feels, to have Kuroo reach out and take it. 

It's a fact they both clearly know, and are both clearly thinking, as Yaku's orgasm hits, makes his eyes start to squint – still unwilling to break eye contact – make him sob once, brokenly, hips snapping needily, over and over, unable to get enough of the obscene movement, bracing against the wall to press against Kuroo. 

It's all Yaku knows in that moment. He belongs to Kuroo. 

The only thing left is to make sure Kuroo belongs to him, too.

Grabbing with both hands, Yaku pulls Kuroo closer by the neck, and bites.

Kuroo growls, chest rumbling with it. _Rejected? Again?_ Yaku barely has time to wonder before Kuroo is responding, biting back, hard, and Yaku's vision goes blurry, unfocused, the tension in his body melting, his thoughts whiting out. It's like he exists on the very edge of his skin, the only thing he's aware of is what he is feeling, and that's Kuroo. Kuroo. 

~

"Morisuke?" Kuroo asks, voice uncharacteristically soft.

It feels like a rush of adrenaline, except cleaner than that, a pure, stronger version of happiness and relief. 

This is how Kuroo experiences happiness. 

Yaku blinks open his eyes, feeling dazed.

"Still alive?" Kuroo asks.

Yaku nods, dumbly, lifting himself from Kuroo's chest, grabbing Kuroo's face, and pulling him into a kiss. It's still dark out, and they're still in the gym. Those are distant and unimportant facts. What's important is Kuroo, and how he's sitting in Kuroo's lap, and continue kissing, feeling Kuroo's emotions wash through his body, meeting each one for the first time. 

"How are you feeling?" Kuroo asks, breaking the kiss to ask.

"You feel good," Yaku says, and there's a spike in everything pleasant that lives in Kuroo's mind, and Yaku _feels_ it. 

He looks down at Kuroo's neck, sees the omega mate mark he left behind. It looks like a splatter, like he dropped sauce on his neck, maybe. 

"Sorry," Yaku snickers. 

"For what?" Kuroo asks, but from his grin he must already know.

"That is not a nice looking mark," Yaku says, running his thumb over it affectionately anyway. Suddenly, his smile drops. "Uh. Sorry, though. Seriously."

Kuroo's brow creases. "Why?"

"The alpha – " he says, awkwardly. "Is supposed to bite first."

"Yeah, I actually didn't even know it could happen in the reverse," Kuroo says, looking at the mark he left on Yaku's neck thoughtfully. "But it's fine. It worked."

Yaku shrugs. Some alphas – most alphas, honestly – would find this unforgivably emasculating, but he doesn't want to get into that now, if Kuroo's willing to pretend like he doesn't know. 

"Any regrets yet?" Yaku asks, even though he already knows the answer, it's flooding his mind, the things that make up Kuroo's just now – love. Excitement, happiness, relief, a steady pulse of contentment beneath that. 

"I guess I'll learn to live with it," Kuroo says. "You?"

"So far so good," Yaku says, hiding his grin in Kuroo's neck, then shivering at the resulting pulse of affection Kuroo feels from the action. It's a wonderful feedback loop, and it's tempting to fall into it, but. Sudden sourness hits. This is not what he imagined Kuroo felt for him. Not in any possible realty - because if he had, he would've done something about it. "You knew." 

"I knew?" Kuroo repeats, confused.

"I told you," Yaku says, slowly, trying to figure out this question as he says it, horrified as he goes on and realizes exactly what it is he's asking, how desperate it starts to sound - "First year, I told you. How I felt. You knew, but you didn't - tell me. How you felt. But - you knew." 

"Yakkun," Kuroo laughs a little, shaking his head. "I knew you confessed during _first year_." 

Yaku feels his perspective twist, slowly, to Kuroo's point of view. A botched confession, rejection. Then silence. Yaku had quietly packed up his interest, and never spoke of it again. Never expressed it again. 

"And I knew - I messed up," Kuroo is saying. "I almost thought I should confess just because you'd appreciate the irony."

"That's not ironic," Yaku says. 

"It is," Kuroo says. "It's cosmic irony. I start falling for you after you get over me. Sounds like a great joke to someone."

"I never did," Yaku says, quiet and serious, keeping his stare on Kuroo's shirt, his neck. "I never got over you." It comes at the same time Kuroo's arms wrap tighter around him, the wash of Kuroo's affections again, and it's strong enough, overwhelming enough to push his already pulled tight emotions to stinging eyes. Kuroo pulls him closer, cocooning Yaku as much as his lanky body allows. 

"I'll make it up to you," Kuroo says. Yaku scoffs lightly. "What? I will. We've got time."

"I guess we do," Yaku says. And they do - a part of him has spent the past week aching unpleasantly, viciously listing off all the ways he does not and could not possibly matter to Kuroo – is soothed, cooled, fading cleanly away. It's not the end of his time with Kuroo.

They spend most of the night dozing close, murmuring random conversations, and kissing, slow and gently, as tender as he can, because of the way it makes Kuroo moan so brokenly, and his affection swell to the point it's almost too much.

Coaches are generally the first ones to wake in the morning, which is good, because a coach is who they'll need to see before anyone else.

After a brief shower and change, it's Ukai spots them first. 

He takes one look at their necks and snickers, low in his throat, then continues shuffling to the lounge, half awake.

Nekomata is not so relaxed. He stares at their marks, then gives Kuroo a long, disappointed glare. 

"Sorry," Kuroo says, wilting under the weight of their coach's disappointment. 

"I'm sure," Nekomata says, disbelieving. "Come with me."

He takes them to a room across from the lounge, has them sit down on the couch, and takes a long moment to consider them both, and their marks, before finally sighing. 

"If this wasn't the last day of camp, I'd send the two of you home," Nekomata says. "This does not reflect well on me, returning from camp with a pair of bonded students who were under my supervision. And I appreciate," he narrows his eyes here in warning. "That the two of you will handle this with some sense of responsibility when it comes to your underclassmen... Outside of that, it's up to the two of you how you proceed."

"Yes sir," They both say. 

"Now," Nekomata says, frowning severely, and Yaku tenses. "I can't deny having the privilege of seeing the two of you grow as teammates and friends and now – " he nods at their necks. "Is a particularly satisfying thing. The two of you – have learned how to be weak in front of each other. That is a very difficult thing to learn, for many couples. So ultimately I say this has my blessing." 

"Thank – "

"Not that you asked for it," Nekomata says, and this time Yaku is the one who squirming in the unique agony of letting his coach down.

Still, Nekomata spoils his omegas, and allows them the morning, to finally, properly, sleep it off on the couch in the office.

They return to practice well into the afternoon, just an hour before the barbeque is scheduled to begin.

"What, did you just wake up?" Yamamoto laughs, then double takes at the mark on Yaku's throat. "Yaku-san??" 

"Don't say anything," Yaku says, pulling up his shirt to cover it as best as he can, but it's pretty high up on his neck. 

He really doesn't want it to get around camp before he has a chance to talk to Lev.

Yaku usually doesn't have a problem staring down these kinds of uncomfortable moments. He's sure of himself, what needs to be said, and what he knows is right. But he walks in on Lev laughing at something Hinata is saying, and … really, truly, does not want to do this. 

Thankfully, the bond mark gets the hardest part over straight away.

"Oh," Lev says.

He deflates.

"Follow me," Yaku says, pulling him to a private space behind one of the gyms. Lev follows, and slumps when they come to a stop.

"So Kuroo and I talked, last night," Yaku says, keeping his hands pressed together tightly, because otherwise he'd start wringing them.

"Yeah," Lev says. "I guessed that."

"So," Yaku says, and can feel himself start to flail. Lev is still slumped in on himself, and the boy is just too tall, and has too much of a presence, for this. It looks ridiculous on him, it always has, but thankfully it never went on for very long, on account of Lev's never ending, overflowing confidence building him up again. When he doesn't rebound as quickly as Yaku is used to, he starts to panic. "You only started playing volleyball five months ago, you know!!" Yaku suddenly shouts, surprising both of them.

"Eh??"

"And - you know why it pisses everyone off? When you say you're going to be ace one day?" Yaku demands, getting in Lev's face like he's being scolded. "I mean, if you were a hopeless loser, everyone would just feel sorry for you when you said it! The reason it's annoying when someone who's only been playing volleyball for a few months says he's going to become the ace is because we can all tell that one day – you _are_ going to become the ace!" 

"Yaku-san – "

"I'm going to teach you everything I can, and by the time you reach my age, you'll be better than I am today!" Yaku barrels on. "You're going to keep improving even past that, too, because you're dedicated and you have talent! So the only way you can be sad right now is if you're only thinking about today!! Because everything that's waiting for you tomorrow is amazing!"

"I appreciate all that, Yaku-san," Lev says, looking down at his hands. He's smiling, but it's an incredibly heartsick smile. "But none of that has anything to do with why I'm sad."

Yaku deflates, pressing his lips together. "Sorry."

"Well," Lev says, heaving a sad, heavy breath. "I don't think I wanted to bond with you – _right away_ , I mean! I mean, maybe, one day, but – that's not what I wanted, right now, right away. So this is.. probably a good thing." 

Yaku wants to say something about how he didn't plan it this way, or he didn't want to bond right away either, but he knows now that he sort of did, and he absolutely did, and it feels like a cheap excuse. Like if Lev had just arrived a little earlier, it could've been him instead of Kuroo.

"You'll be fine," he says.

"I know," Lev says. "But I'll be sad for a little bit before that."

Yaku bites his tongue and forces himself to leave before shouting out some other ridiculous thing in an attempt to heal a wound that Lev can only heal himself.

~

"You _bonded_?" Tsukishima asks, gobsmacked. 

Yamaguchi and Shibayama have the classic, pleasantly surprised and congratulatory responses, while Kageyama stares from the background in what Yaku can only describe as horrified pity, as if Yaku just walked in and announced he's giving up volleyball to knit tea cozies. 

"You… really bonded," Akaashi says, tilting his head to the side as he peers closer, and Bokuto does the same just behind him, looking uncannily like a pair of owls. "With – Lev? You didn't seem like – " Kuroo walks in, and Akaashi's expression clears immediately. "Ah."

Bokuto is absolutely beside himself, getting Kuroo in a "congrats headlock" after giving him several "congrats high fives."

Yaku's never been the type of omega who fixated on bonding or mating or marks or any of it. He knew what it entails, but never really thought what it would be like, and feeling Kuroo – impressions of the world, and the important people in it – is a truly humbling experience. He anticipated any future bond mate would feel some affection for Yaku himself, and he was prepared for that, but.

The very real fondness and affection for his entire team, for his friends, the pure delight in their presence. The wealth of pleased, teasing affection that bubbles up when he sees Tsukishima is enough to leave Yaku lightheaded. Yaku didn't account for any of that.

Maybe it's just from missing the morning, but the last day is over nearly instantly. There's only two rotations in the afternoon, then it's the barbeque.

It's the first and second year's responsibility to help the managers clean, once that's over, but it's an awkward thing to just stand around, so most of the third years end up lending a hand, as well. There's no reason to linger once they finish cleaning, and Karasuno heads home first. Then they're waving goodbye to Fukurodani, and then Nekoma is handing their bags to Kuroo one at a time for him to load up, before climbing in. 

And then that's it. That's the end.

~

Yaku wakes up on the bus, impressed with the comfort of his chair, nuzzling against the fabric. It's warm, too, and – soft. And smells like Kuroo, and is actually Kuroo. 

He's sitting on Kuroo. 

Happy about this, he pushes his face closer to Kuroo's neck, and breaths in the scent there, enjoying what he finds.

Kuroo's happiness builds slowly this time, and Yaku nearly squirms from the strength of it.

"What's so good?" Yaku manages to ask.

"My bondmate woke up," Kuroo says into the top of his head, smiling.

"That's it?" 

"Mmhm."

"What a loser, Kuroo."

"Mmm."

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tumblr! [Tiggeryumyum!](http://tiggeryumyumm.tumblr.com)


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